so long and good night; any

[michaelis]

uh so it's been like eight months since I've done words.
pls excuse but I was itching to come back
<333

Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate the lives of everyone you know.
And what's the worst you take from every heart you break? And like
the blade you stain, well, I've been holding on tonight.
It has been years since Michaelis has set foot within the boundaries of Beqanna. He had lingered long enough to watch his precious little shadow girls mature and then he was gone with the faint promise that he would return. With the Reckoning came a dramatic change to his homeland and a jarring disappearance of the shadows that he had grown so fond of – they had been much like his children even. The political ramifications did not affect him; he bore no loyalty to a particular kingdom and he never did truly identify with one. Michaelis had been born and raised by his parents in the meadow. It was a place where all walks of life were welcomed and relationships could be maintained across borders.

Michaelis’ loyalty has always been placed upon people regardless of their backgrounds. He was interested in their thoughts and ideas, their instincts, their actions and reactions, and their qualities. It was the people who made up Beqanna, not necessarily the landscapes. But once the shadow child found those he found to be worthy, he considered them much like a dragon would with its precious treasure hoard. They deserved his support, his attentions, his protection – he would do all he could so that they could shine as brilliantly as they were meant to be. Michaelis was a hoarder - while one might collect pretty trinkets or gather wildflowers, he preferred to gather the most interesting people beneath his magpie wings.

Since losing his shadow companions, it seemed almost as if time stood still for the blue roan. He had barely aged in his time away, and he associated it with Beqanna and her mysterious ways. He still felt oddly vulnerable and naked without the shadows enveloping him. His senses had been muffled – he found it disquieting, but it had been his natural state before his run-in with those horrifying fairies and their demonic backstabbing sheep. He hasn’t been able to adequately adjust his schedule either. His dayblindness had been debilitating and yet even though he could walk freely amongst the sunlight once more, he still found the cover of the night to be the most comforting.

He surveyed the field with nostalgic mismatched eyes. It was an hour before sunset, the dying rays dying the foliage deep russet reds and muted golds. He could see few others occupying the field, perhaps most had given up for the day and hoped to try again tomorrow. A home wasn’t perhaps a top priority to the shadow child. No, he craved reconnections and a sense of belonging once more. He needed community and ties – he needed a purpose.

He drank deeply of the small creek that ran behind some tall oaks to refresh himself from his long journey. He then settled in for the wait amongst the folds of deepening shadows from the overhead branches of the oaks nearby. He hoped someone came along soon to break him of his painful solace.

The shadow child was finally home.

Michaelis
( The Shadow Child )

[Gryffen]

The ghost is looking for those with worth for his new campaign. Mostly he wants those with a particular set of skills or traits. It goes hand in hand with his vision you see. Already he has managed to gain the support of a handful of dangerous, powerful, magical beings. A handful is not enough. Not for the size and scale of what they plan to do. Ever watching, prowling, waiting. Since his return to this new Beqanna, he makes sure to become familiar with the common lands. This is where he can pluck and pick what he likes. Can find underdeveloped souls that may just need a gentle push to embrace their full potential. He knows about the lack of magic, that some may have lost their abilites. He still wants them, wings cut off or not. If there was a way to return them to former glory then he will be happy to escort them in doing so… for a price of course. There’s a longing in the back of the eyes, a discomfort about the body. This is how he finds them and the field has always been the most promising birthing ground. You see if you need a purpose, Gryffen can give it to you. That’s what the dark writhing monster and the beautiful witch had both been lacking. All that power but no useful outlet, no sweet release. They wanted to be weapons, the red eyed ghost could give them that. Just as he could do this with wayward soul, if given the chance. Wings of soft down are folded gently against his sides, eyes of bright red glowing beneath silky strands of white. An angel of darkness, a mockery of all that was good. Tall grass blades caress his belly as he ambles towards the male. He looks like a fish out of water, as if the sun causes him discomfort, squinting and blinking oddly. Even the shade of the tree doesn’t seem to comfort him. A frown tugs at his lips, for he has always been more comfortable in cooler dark places as well. The Chamber and the mountains he had once kept his captive girls (his birthplace) had been best. A shadowy damp graveyard, full of mist and fog. He can relate, shadow people always know their own. ”You would be better off in the forest.” He offers quietly, snowy whipcord flicking gently against his hocks. It was where he was currently residing until they found more suitable headquarters. ”I’m Gryffen.” He offers, tilting his head slightly and giving the other an appraising look. ”And I have a feeling we might be able to help each other out.” Gryffen - - - - - The Big Bad Wolf

Back in time for plots and things if you're interested =D

[Kimber]

let me tell you something baby,
you love me for everything you hate me for
She felt like she had just been vindicated from one crime and placed on another. Although the guilt of running away from her dysfunctional 'family' had been resolved, she found herself rather perturbed with her lack of purpose now in life. She had been assigned or asked, rather, to join the army of Tephra but was it truly her place? It was no Chamber, the place she had been left to die at the moment she took her first breath. She had lived, bled, cried, sweat, and loved (dare she say?) all in the thicket of the Chamber's ashen trees.  She missed her home and a part of it would always be missing from her but she would not stray from Tephra for quite some time but it doesn't deny her mind (and legs) from wandering. It is then that she is unsure if she is experiencing an olfactory hallucination with the waning of the day but she smells something familiar; something from the Chamber.

It is no surprise the dip dyed mare increases her pace, a full gallop of pitch black fading into dark indigo painted across the sunset. Was it Warship? Although even then, her heart sunk with guilt, shame...and anger. She steadies herself as her haunches slide beneath her to slow, the dust particles floating up and around her in the golden hour. She sees no Warship but the ex general does see a wolf in sheep's clothing and one that she'd met before. Gryffen she spits like venom, a woman like Kimber never forgets a face, especially one she may or may not have slain in her mind. He, too, was from the Chamber once upon a time but disappeared when things grew tough and as she slinks forward to the pair, stoic and with precision she catches his ending. We might be able to help to help each other. She scoffs, blowing out at the end of his statement.

"If by help you mean use and leave for dead then sure, Gryffen is just the man for cause," she is curt, wasting no time to give the wolf a stern gaze - Kimber may be born from a lion and a demon, she may face her own personal hell but she was no sheep. More of a shepherd, if you will. "I doubt he remembers me, we're all just pawns in his little head games - I'm Kimber. Say you," she throws her head towards blue roan, "I've watched you for the time you've been here - I can make a guess at your weaknesses, Gryffen preys on them. Maybe being a dog scrapping for slivers of meat on bones appeals to you but my intuition would be to differ, what is it you're looking for in the dark of night with terrors lurking."

If there was nothing else about her, you knew where you stood with her - she either tolerated you or she despised you and the chances of you moving from one column to the other were quite slim so first impressions were important. She watches the red eyed stallion, calculating and observing him and any physical damage he may have endured. One could never know how powerful someone else was. Kimber hated magicians, this man had several on his side that she didn't know. There is always an inherent risk for speaking what you know, what you feel but she would die before she ever hushed her mind to save face.

[michaelis]

Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate the lives of everyone you know.
And what's the worst you take from every heart you break? And like
the blade you stain, well, I've been holding on tonight.
There were certainly parallels to be drawn between the two – the magpie and the dark raven. Michaelis wanted to collect the interesting, which usually meant that they were accompanied with some form of power – abilities, personalities, ideologies. But their initial collecting habits were perhaps all that were shared among the two. The shadow child did not care for immediate power. He enjoyed the process, the polishing of rough and dull gemstones into the most glittering of diamonds. He put his blood and his sweat and his tears into them until they could stand on their own, and he could simply bask in their shadows, content to sit back, observe, support, and polish every so often if needed.

Michaelis was a creator – not a destroyer.

He could hear another approach and mismatched eyes met red ones. For a second, his heart gladdened with thoughts of Offspring. But he blinked, and the dark stallion of his mind turned into a real-life ghostly stallion with billowing wings drawn tightly to his sides. A stranger then, a confident one at that. Michaelis welcomed strangers, and he would certainly hear what this one had to say before making his judgments. He chuckles quietly to himself from the comment about the forest. After the Reckoning, the shadow child lived solely in the forest, taking comfort from its shadowy depths and raising his twins there.

"I’m Michaelis."

Before Michaelis can answer the other’s bold statement, the two are interrupted by another’s cutting words. This time a lady graced them with her presence, but the shadow child knew that she would be more likely to shred you with her claws than to rub up against you and purr. This was a self-assured woman who could wield her weapon, whether it was her words or her body, with both precision and grace. A combination that Michaelis would find intoxicating.

He took no offense from her derisive words. It would take more than that to rattle the shadow child. Instead, he was much more interested in the backstory to instill such obvious resentment. Hatred that was enough to prompt her to try and shield him from the ghost stallion before them. Michaelis could appreciate another’s opinion. It was always advantageous to have as much information as possible before making a final decision.

“Bad blood?”

Michaelis
( The Shadow Child )

[Gryffen]

a ghost in the darkness.

Don’t you see my friend. We aren’t as different as you wish, you’re more like me then you want to admit. For he is a creator too. The creations serve different purposes but he also molds and models his collections. Fine tunes them and steps back to watch what they would do. Just because he might destroy them in the end or they may destroy other things made no difference. One might think it more responsible really, knowing when to step in and pull the plug. How can one learn life’s deepest darkest secrets if you’re not willing to pull back the layers of flesh and discover them for yourself?

He’s not able to probe the stallion’s ideals or pick his brain to find out these things for himself. A blue and black mare (not unlike Thana, that delectable treasure as hungry as he) has come forward and she is scathing in her words. His ears flatten slightly to his poll, red eyes narrowing as she hurls her insults at him, lays his patterns bare. His jaw tightens slightly but he keeps his expression neutral. Calm. There would be no point in meeting her anger, there was a better way to play her at her own game.

Who was she? Her name didn’t strike a bell but her face registers the barest flicker of recognition. She reminds him of someone else… Something about the Chamber. Nostrils flare in a snort, giving Michealis an almost apologetic eye roll. ”I can’t say I remember you Kimber… Did I forget to call you? I’m not a second date kind of guy.” As the dark stallion questions bad blood he gives a soft sigh. ”You know what they say..” He laughs, his lips curling in a grin. ”Hell hath no fury and all that.” A pale shoulder rolling slightly in a shrug while crimson iris’s glitter in her direction. He had forgotten her but now she was on his radar. Unwise. It would have been better off for her to stay silent, mind her own business for he would not forget this intrusion. He wouldn’t forget her again.

”Baby baby… How can I make it up to you?” Silky words falling from pale lips, looking ever the man of appeasement and false sincerity. Of course he’s fucking with her, putting on a show. The real drama would follow once the curtain had closed and their audience of one had gone home.

Gryffen